Painted Flowers
by kingszey
Summary: All James really knew was that Lily Evans was like painted flowers and god did he love her so much.


**Hi, this is just something I started writing on my phone one night and worked on from time to time. I finally finished it last week and decided to post it, so please read and review! :)**

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James had always admired Lily. From afar at first, and then a little closer and a tiny bit more in-your-face. Before their third year he'd thought her pretty, sure, and admirably intelligent. But at that time he'd been no more interested in a girlfriend than he was in becoming a Death Eater and he'd never made a move before they were thirteen. Then came the days of non-stop pestering and generally making her life hell, though, thinking about it, that had probably contributed to her disdain of him. It was not until they were seventeen that he really saw her. And it was then that he had realized.

Because Lily Evans was like painted flowers, beautiful and delicate and made up of tiny lines and bold brushstrokes. And for a while, everyone gets caught up in the pleasantness of these flowers and they're loved and cherished. But the problem with well-loved things is that they get worn out and people gradually move on. Then these little painted flowers are left peeling and faded, sad shadows of their former glory but still beautiful in their melancholy way. All it really takes after that is someone willing to look at the flowers and, rather than wanting to restore them, fall in love despite the cracks and the faultiness. James Potter was that person, he just needed to make her see it.

One winter night he was sitting in the library, his mind flitting between his Herbology assignment, the snow outside, and, of course, Lily. Lily was rarely ever not on his mind, and for this reason thoughts of her consumed him entirely for the majority of each day and gave him an unhealthy desire to know of her whereabouts at all times. And as he stared out into the cold he did indeed become aware of this as a slight, redheaded girl was descending the front steps. He wondered how she had managed to get out of the castle without an invisibility cloak and was struck by a design to find out. Abandoning his essay - Moony could do it for him later - he pulled his cloak over his head and ran out of the library. As she was wandering at a leisurely pace while he was jogging, he had caught up to her in no time, pulling off the cloak only once he was right beside her.

She jumped and leapt back at his sudden appearance, making James wonder if perhaps he could have been more tactful. "Er... Hi, Evans."

Lily seemed to struggle with herself for a few moments, her mouth slightly agape. "You pop up beside me out of nowhere in the middle of the night, scaring me half to death, and you say 'hi, Evans'?"

"Well Christ, did you want me to give you a bloody valedictorian's speech?" he asked with a roll of his eyes, knowing that he ought to be more polite if he ever wanted to be in her favour but not being able to resist. "I hardly snuck up on you, anyway. I was leaving footprints in the snow and everything."

Her eyes narrowed as she glanced back the way they had come, fixing her annoyed gaze on the two sets of footsteps that led from the castle to where they stood. Then she looked at the cloak tucked under his arm. "Invisibility cloak?" she asked with a disdainful sniff, and he nodded sheepishly. "That explains quite a lot of the yet unfounded accusations against you over the past six years, Potter."

"It's certainly been useful," he replied, barely keeping the note of pride out of his voice. "Haven't used it much this term, though."

"Alas, the year is but young! I'm sure you'll be causing unnecessary mayhem wherever you go in no time at all," Lily assured him sarcastically.

"No, I don't think so," James informed her seriously, his sober expression appropriate for someone at the deathbed of a dear friend. "I've really stepped up my act this year, being Head Boy. I know what an honour it is and I don't intend on having my position stripped. I thought you'd have noticed."

Thinking about it, she actually _had _noticed. During prefect patrols he followed orders and got the job done without complaint. And she had seen him in the library, a rare sight during any other year. "I guess things have changed a lot this year," she said quietly.

"More importantly, what in Merlin's name are you doing out here?" And then, because it was impossible not to, he added, "You're a prefect, you ought to know better."

She cracked a grin at that, and James really did see those weary painted flowers that he loved so much in that smile. "I was just taking a walk, Potter. The cool air helps me clear my head. It's nice to think out here."

"Think about what?"

She sighed. "Like I said before, things have changed a lot this year."

They had reached the edge of the frozen black lake and James took a seat on a thick, twisting root, pulling Lily down beside him. Away from the moon's light he could barely see her, yet he felt as though the darkness brought out her true colours - her cracked smiles and her peeling paint. He liked it that way. There was less space between them.

"Tell me. Tell me what's changed." He hoped she wouldn't think him too forward, too prying. It'd be just like him to catch her at a good time, warm her to him, and then cock up and be back at square one. Sirius used to say he had a gift for that.

"What hasn't?" She asked, her voice wretched and strained. "My sister, Petunia, she never really liked what I was. A witch. Then over the holidays she moved out of home so she'd never have to see me again. The workload this year is too much even for me, and I'm just not used to this stress."

James nudged her shoulder lightly. "You're Lily Evans, you don't let a bit of homework get you down! Now come on, tell me what the problem _really _is."

And finally, the floodgates in her mind opened and let all the contained thoughts come spilling out. "God, Potter, it couldn't be that there's a- a fucking _wizarding world war _going on out there, could it? And I'm stuck in here where I'm no good to anyone! But I swear to god, the second I'm out of here I'm joining up with Dumbledore's lot, and I'm going to fight. I hate feeling useless this way, while muggleborns like me get slaughtered beyond the school gates."

James grinned at her, though his expression might not have been entirely appropriate considering her confession. "That's more like it."

The two lapsed into silence, Lily slightly breathless after her spirited speech. Finally, she mumbled something in a low voice that James couldn't quite catch.

"I'm sorry?"

Lily gritted her teeth. "I _said_, that's not all that's changed."

"Merlin, Evans, this just isn't your year, is it? So what else has happened to make you miserable even in such fine company?" He asked.

She hesitated for a long time, so long that James began to get frightened that she'd lost interest entirely. Just when he expected her to get up and leave, she whispered, "Well, I guess you hate me now."

The idea was so outrageous that he couldn't help but laugh slightly. Hate her? _Her_? While he was James and she was Lily there was no way he could ever hate her. He'd loved her unrequitedly for the past four years, for god's sake. "What the hell would make you think _that_?"

If she'd looked embarrassed or hesitant before, it was nothing compared to now. Through the darkness he saw her blush, purse her lips and stare at the ground. She seemed to struggle with herself for a while, and when she spoke at long last her voice sounded slightly strangled. "You don't ask me out anymore."

"I-" he opened his mouth to deny it then stopped himself, thinking. He hadn't asked her out all year, in fact, despite that prefect patrols meant long waits bursting with silences to fill. But no, he hadn't leapt on any of the opportunities. "I suppose I haven't, Evans. I figured that asking you out again would ruin what little friendship we had with one another during our Head Boy and Girl duties. It was nice actually _talking _to you for once, you know?"

"So it's not because you hate me?" she asked in an endearingly small voice.

"Of course not," James assured her. "I had no idea you'd get so upset, though. It's like you live off rejecting me or something. Or perhaps my unfailing attention went to your head after a while."

"Oh, shut up." She shoved him crossly. "I just don't like change."

"Will you go out with me?" the question tumbled from James' mouth before he could stop them. He expected her to laugh or tell him to stop being such a prat, or at the very least just ignore him. But instead she stared up at him, an odd expression on her face.

"Yes," she said quietly.

"I- wait, what?" James started with the realization of what she'd said. "You'll go out with me? Really?"

"Yes, really!" She told him, laughing. "I'd have said yes earlier if you'd asked me out. I've been dying to say yes, actually, I thought I was making myself really obvious for ages and-"

"_What_?" He couldn't believe it. "Lily, you've been a lot of things since the start of the year, but _obvious_..." he trailed off, shaking his head in wonder. "Never mind that now. I suppose I get to call you by your first name now, Lily."

She frowned at him. "I don't believe anyone was ever stopping you, James."

"Well I- did you just call me James?" he asked, barely daring to believe that things could be this good.

"It's your name, is it not?"

"God, yeah, I suppose so," he muttered, running a hand through his hair, wondering why he was suddenly so flustered. Actually, he knew why - girls like Lily Evans shouldn't be _allowed _to call him James in such a casual yet affectionate way. It made him hope for a future with the girl, had him envisioning cosy Hogsmeade weekends and meeting her father and falling in love. Maybe they'd find a flat in Muggle London together once they'd finished school or spend a weekend in Paris, if he could save up the money to treat her like that. He forced himself out of his thoughts. After all, he'd only just asked her out.

"It's cold," stated Lily as if she thought James might not have noticed the snow that lay thick around their feet. "Why don't we go back to the castle?"

He took her hand as they did, marvelling at that fact that after four years of longing for this he was _here_, holding the hand of the girl of his dreams.

Though he had no idea at the time, those earlier desires of his would become reality in the space of a few short years. He'd spend many Hogsmeade weekends with her, huddled in the Three Broomsticks and poking around Dervish and Banges. He'd look her father in the eye as she introduced the two men and he'd fall madly in love with her. They would find an apartment in Muggle London. It'd be small and run-down but it'd be _theirs _and he'd stack shelves at Flourish and Blots while she'd serve coffee at Starbucks. They'd join the Order of the Phoenix and try to scrape up enough money to go to Paris, but that would never happen. It wasn't much of a life they'd live, not until they found a house in Godrics Hollow and had little Harry, their pride and joy, their only son. This happiness would be cut short abruptly as Lord Voldemort bursts into their home and kills James Potter on the spot. He hesitates before killing Lily Potter, giving her a chance that she would never take. And so they lived and so they died, and it had all started by the lake in the grounds of their school.

But neither had any idea of this on that snowy night. All James really knew was that Lily Evans was like painted flowers and god did he love her so much.


End file.
